We have met Captain Murray Maxwell (1775 –1831) on this blog
in an article dealing with his adventures in the frigate HMS Alceste in the Far East and her
subsequent shipwreck in the East Indies in 1817. On this latter occasion
Murray’s superb leadership was to ensure survival of his entire crew on a despite
shortage of provisions and attack by pirates. (Click here for a link to the earlier article). Alceste had been captured
from the French in 1806 and Maxwell was to command her with notable success and
distinction through much of her service in the Royal Navy. The Alceste
was not however the first frigate to be wrecked under Maxwell’s command and that
event was also to occur in Eastern waters.
Murray Maxwell - honoured by a Korean stamp for his survey work on the Korean coast |
Maxwell had command of the frigate HMS Dædalus, a Venetian-built ship captured in the Adriatic in 1811,
for a mere eleven months. In her he left Britain in January 1813, escorting an East
India Company convoy to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). The voyage was uneventful and by sunset on 1st
July the convoy had passed the island’s most southerly point. During the hours
of darkness it sailed east by north to give any coastal shoals adequate
clearance and on the following morning it headed north, parallel to the coast,
towards its destination of Trincomalee. This was a period when charts were less
than adequate and when heavy reliance was placed on pilots familiar with coastal
waters. No chances were being taken on the Daedalus
– her course was some seven or eight miles off the land and good look-outs were
being kept both from the deck and
mast-head for rocks and breakers. It was reported that “the atmosphere was so clear that a ripple might have been seen upon
the water for miles around”. Nothing appeared to indicate danger and the
master was pointing out to Captain Maxwell her position on the chart, when they
felt the hull touch ground somewhere close to her stern. The shock was almost imperceptible
and many on board were not aware of it. Signals were immediately made to warn
the convoy of their danger, but before the signals could be answered, the Dædalus swung off into deep water. All
sail was set, and hopes were entertained that she was not materially injured.
Perhaps due to her Venetian construction, and originally designed for service
in the relatively calm waters of the Mediterranean, Dædalus proved too slight to sustain any shock without damage.
Gentle as the grounding had been the lower part of the stern-post had given
way, causing a massive leak. The pumps were instantly manned but it was
impossible to keep pace with the ingress of water.
The French frigate Clorinde - HMS Daedalus would have been very similar |
A signal was made for the convoy to stand by and to send all
their carpenters on board Dædalus, but
their combined efforts were to be unavailing. The rudder was detached from the
broken part of the stern-post and guns and anchors were thrown overboard. A
patch was fashioned from canvas, oakum and tar. It was dropped over the stern and
pulled into position along the keel to block the leak. This was only briefly
successful however and hopes that had been briefly raised that the ship might
yet reach Trincomalee were dashed. After eight hours continuous pumping the
exhausted crew saw the water rising to the level of the lower deck.
Captain Maxwell now recognised that he had so chance of
saving his ship and that she must be abandoned as soon as possible if lives
were to be saved. The process was
disciplined in the extreme. The boys, “idlers”, and two divisions of seamen and
marines were ordered into the boats which were alongside, while the remaining
men were employed at the pumps to keep the ship afloat. The good order and
discipline which prevailed during this scene are beyond all praise. In Maxwell’s
words “The men behaved as if they were
moving from one ship to another in any of the king's ports.'
The
sinking of HMS Pandora on August 30, 1791 (she was carrying captured mutineers from HMS Bounty) The last moments of HMS Daedalus must have looked very similar |
Dædalus was
settling fast, when the boats returned to carry away the remainder of the
officers and men, they left the pumps and embarked in the boats, taking with
them the hammocks and clothes belonging to the ship's company. Maxwell was the
last man to leave. Five minutes later the ship lurched, fell on her beam ends and
lay on them for a minute, then righted again and slipped gently from sight.
In the court-martial that followed blame was laid on the
master, Arthur Webster, for having failed to take constant depth soundings. He
was severely reprimanded. To modern eyes it seems strange that it should be the
master rather than the captain who would suffer but Maxwell’s reputation did
not seem to be damaged and his career was not impeded. He was soon to be in
command of Alceste again and three
years later he was heading to China and the events for which he is best
remembered.
And for these it’s best to refer to the earlier article.
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If you have already read it you may like to hear a world of battle by land and sea, palace intrigue and refugee flight during a savage winter brought to life. And if you haven't yet read, it this may be your introduction to a resolute but often self-doubting Royal Navy Captain and the woman he hesitates to recognise as the love of his life.
Britannia’s Spartan
Six-inch breech loading guns represented the cutting edge of
naval technology in the early 1880s. In my novel Britannia’s Spartan they are
seen in use on both British and Japanese ships. The splendid Japanese woodcut
below shows Japanese crews managing just such a weapon in the war of 1895
against China. Click on the image below for further details.
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